


The Curse of Corruption

by Blaze (Swiftadmiral)



Category: Pack Street - Fandom, Zootopia
Genre: AU, Pack Street, Revenge, Violence, Witchcraft, fanfic of a fanfic of a fanfic, harry potter spells/magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-12 01:33:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17458073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swiftadmiral/pseuds/Blaze
Summary: A continuation/alternate ending to a story by HadAMind, featuring Betty from Pack Street on a path to revenge.The original story can be found here: https://pastebin.com/w0qy3ccn(Good luck reading it)





	The Curse of Corruption

 

 

 

 

 

**Ch1**

**Answering the Call**

 

It’s a stick. Or, more specifically, a piece of red-brown wood measuring approximately 13 inches, tapering off to a point. Perfectly placed where the pistol should have been.

“What the hell is this?” Her eyebrows fall, a look of confusion dawning on Betty’s face. Where was her gun? Who had done this?

“No one else has been in here…”

She tilted her muzzle to the ceiling, nostrils inhaling and exhaling.

“I would have smelled th-haruk!” The lupine suddenly coughs; the thick, repulsive smell of blood and decay so incredibly overwhelming, bringing everything that had just happened crashing back into the black wolf.

“Charlie…” There’s a light thud as her knees hit the floor, noise unheard to the disparaged canine. A lone tear drips down her face, a single wave crashing over a soon to burst dam.

“Why… Why her? It should have been me…”  

Now she’s standing, heart thundering in her rapidly rising and sinking chest.

“IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!” She unleashes a cry to the heavens; a few particles of dust and drywall drift down from the ceiling, the only response she receives.

“Goddammit…” Again Betty finds herself kneeling over. Globules of sweat stream down her body. A few splinters from the wooden floor sink into her skin, but she doesn't feel them.

She doesn't feel anything.

A single dark-furred ear twitches, adjusting to the sound of faint sirens growing louder. It’s too late for that, she thinks. It’s too late for anything. Her now swollen amber eyes drift back to the misplaced object, the stick that had ripped away her only escape. There was an odd glow reflecting from it; perhaps the sun was setting outside?

A quick glance to the window showed only rolling darkness and flickers of red and blue.

Then how was the stick producing light on it’s own?

A hesitant paw reaches forward, thoughts of death drifting from her mind.

It was so interesting…

The stick.

Her claws scratch against the concrete underneath it, an agonizing sound that would have caused her whole body to shudder. Would have.

When she cared.

“There…” Now firmly in paw, she lifts the oddity up to her face, lips pursed and nose crinkled in concentration.

“What in the..?”

A blinding light erupts from the trailer, whitish beams and rays shoot in every direction as if fired from an errant machine gun. Though oddly, there isn’t any noise. Just as soon as it had appeared, the light fades away in an instant, leaving only the sprawled out wolf on the floor.

Stick still grasped tightly in her paw, Betty’s eyes flutter open once again. But now they’re a willful, mesmerizing blue.

Rings of color and waves of light pattern her vision, strange objects and foreign concepts drowning her in confusion, but only for a moment.

Now, finally, she understands.

It was _magic._

And that thing in her paw. Not a stick.

It was a wand.

A torrent of euphoria fills the lupine, streams of knowledge and currents of power returning to her memory. She was once a witch, and a damn good one at that. But why couldn’t she remember…?

*Bang bang!*

Only now does the sound of urgent knocking and voices shouting reach her ears, pushing one single electrifying thought to the front of her addled brain. _Escape!_

*CRACK!*

With all the deafening roar of a cannon blast, she twists in place and disappears, the fabric of reality bending and shaping to her will.

As if on cue, the door crashes open, flickering batons and shining badges pushing through.

“POLICE! PAWS UP!”

The trailer is empty.

    


**Ch2**

**Anything for the High**

 

 

*CRACK!*

A pocket of air snaps, displaced particles rushing away from the form that was suddenly lying on the grass. It was damp, staining her ragged and holey jeans.

“Ughh…” A paw goes to her forehead, the other resting over her stomach. The world around her spins, her organs feeling like they’ve been compressed and then inflated like a balloon. Gradually her vision returns to normal, as the pang of a new, unfamiliar hunger snakes up her spine.

“Where… Where am I?” The wolfess mumbles to herself. She stands up slowly, balance not yet fully returned. A field filled with green and brown meets her scrutinizing gaze, a forest lining the horizon. The sky is grey with a hint of purple, a few tendrils of red clouds a prelude to the rising sun. A light fog drifts towards the atmosphere, thick and wet air swirling around the canine. Suddenly, the matted fur and dried blood becomes overbearing; the lupine quickly decides on a spell to wipe away the memories of the previous day.

“ _Scourgify.”_ There’s a echo of blue light that washes over her body, vanishing the filth, grime, and blood. Cleaning done, Betty looks back up to the sky, now whitish orange. The view is serene, akin to an oil painting with thick, colorful brushstrokes.

The light, joyful chirps of song birds reach the wolf's ears. She turns her gaze to a nearby tree; a few delicate, beige-colored birds sit and hop amongst the branches.

“ _Corrumpo…”_

Almost accidentally the word tumbles from her lips, a faint well of power leaving her wand in the form of a bolt of sickly green, that shoots into the tree.

*Pop!*

There’s a burst of dark red, followed by few stained feathers slowly withering towards the ground. The other birds quickly grow silent.

Betty frowns; that wasn’t supposed to happen.

And yet… There’s an icy feeling in her veins, a strange unseen cold nipping at her fur. It doesn’t feel like anger, or sorrow.

It feels like regret.

“ _Corrumpo_.” The spell flies; another dies. Her blood thaws.

“ _Corrumpo_!” Her arms move fluidly, body boiling as her wand weaves words of destruction through the air.

“ _Corrumpo, corrumpo, CORRUMPO_!”

Death fills the morning air, and the cheery songs of birds are heard no more. Her chest heaves, eyes unfocused as burning drops of sweat drip down her face.

But the tree still stands.

Her wand surges forward, glowing with barely contained power.

 _SECTUMSEMPRA_!” There’s a visible shock-wave as the burning white spell divides the surrounding air, slamming into the tree with all the force of a highway semi.

*CRACK!*

Leaves fly away in a tornado, branches are torn asunder, and the trunk fractures and splits, as if pierced by a oversized knife. A few wisps of smoke drift from the smoldering wood.

The field is mired in destruction and expired life.

The wolf staggers, struggling to regain her balance as the incredible, intoxicating rush of domination and control slowly filters through her body.

“Ahh…” She runs the paw holding her wand over her face, savoring this new found power. The tears of yesterday all but forgotten, a new raw determination fills her heart, a single thought pounding in her mind.

“I’m going to get that fucker.”

A faint smile, if it could be called that, graces the predator’s lips. There’s a sudden rush of air and a tremendous noise, and the wolf is gone.

  


**Ch3**

**Pain and Misery**

 

 

Somewhere, on an abandoned street outside Zootopia, an archaic structure sits amongst collapsed and destroyed buildings. The far away sounds of construction and industry permeate the air. The occasional barely functioning car or raggedy pedestrian passes by, giving the building but a nervous glance and continuing on their way. The shadows of faded graffiti decorate almost every conceivable surface, even the powerlines.

In stark contrast to the exterior the inside is a whirlwind of managed chaos and life, struggling as it is. The ceiling reaches high, taller than a giraffe, though most of the occupants are smaller than a bear. Pillars of concrete are connected by rope and blankets, creating makeshift rooms for the different animals. A few fires flicker, casting shadows from the depraved mammals that surround them.

“It’s so cold…”

“Bitch you’re cold? My furs on fuckin’ fire!”

“Should've saved it…”

Shut up you stupid goat!”

“Not a goat, I’m-”

“Don’t fuckin’ care!”

“ _Quiet._ ” The single word comes in a slow hiss, spreading like liquid nitrogen over the conversation. The surrounding animals freeze as the familiar sound of claws scrape against the concrete. Lengthy snake-like tail behind him, the scaly reptile steps forward.

“H-Hey Greg…”

The lizard’s eye pivots in its socket, glaring like a great eye wreathed in flame. His tongue whips out, tasting the air. “What do you have for me?”

“I snagged this.” A wallet sails through the air, easily caught by the stout monitor. After ripping apart the contents, Greg gives a satisfied nod, pulling a small packet from his jacket and throwing it back. “Good enough. I’ll be back tomorrow.” His eyes narrow, a few pointed teeth slipping out from his maw. “I expect more.”

“You got it mate. You know I’m always-”

A clawed hand waves him silent.

“Less talk, mor-”

*BOOM!*

The entire structure shakes, the floor vibrating from the sheer force of the explosion outside. Blanket-curtains tumble as animals struggle to pick themselves back up; dust falls from the ceiling making the already crowded air almost choking.  

“What the hell?”

“It’s the coppers, run!”

“Cops don’t blow people up…”

Confusion and chaos size the building. With his long, silver handgun already grasped tightly, Greg pushes through the crowd to the front door. A variety of mammals rush towards the other exits, searching for the quickest escape, ever increasing terror written on their faces.

An ancient wooden door bursts open, and the curious lizard steps out onto the sunlit sidewalk.

There, standing in the middle of the road, is a tall, black-furred wolf. Atypically, both ears are pointed downwards. Scorch marks reach out on the ground in every direction, originating from the stoic canine.

Greg doesn’t notice.

“Well, if it isn’t little miss wolf slut.” He shoves the pistol back into his waistband, deciding to have a little fun first.

Her sharp, knife like maw turns sluggishly towards the lizard, burning blue eyes barely visible. Her lips curl upwards, jagged razors showing. She speaks tonelessly. “You…”

“Yes, me.” He looks left to right, surveying the street. It’s almost a struggle to tear his eyes away from the wolf, her presence strangely captivating. The reptile starts to mutter to himself in a barely audible whisper,  “what the hell caused that noise…”

“Me.”

His snout whips back towards Betty, a brief note of confusion quickly being replaced by disbelief. “Ha!” He scoffs. “Tell me another joke, ya dumb bitch.”

The lupine stays silent. Her body shudders, clothing shaking, fur whipping and waving as if pushed by an invisible wind.

“Still so scared, hun?” An ugly smile creeps across his repulsive face.

“Don’t worry, you stupid dog.”

His claw reaches towards his waist.

“I’m going to put you down.”

Silver gleams in his hand.

“Just like I did to your fox bit-”

Fast as a bolt of lightning, her wand is out and cutting through the air, sending a light blue spell crashing towards him. There’s a flash of red as it slams into his wrist. His claw plops from his arm, followed by a wretched scream.

“gaaAAHHHHH!”

The severed hand flops on the ground, still desperately clutching his gun. The shining silver is quickly covered by violent spurts of crimson blood.

‘Haaa-H-How?!” His breathing struggles, mind unable to comprehend. His remaining claw grips the mangled remains of the other.

The wolf takes her time answering. Her eyes are fully open, ears peaked, taking in every sight and sound. A red tint leaks into the blue of her irises.

“ _For Her.”_

Her wand moves silently, causing the lizard’s skin to start peeling and shearing off. Dark red starts to drip from invisible holes on his skin. His voice is crowded with disbelief and confusion, an undercurrent of pain seeping through. “W-what is this, magic?!”

“Yes.” Her response is clinical as her wand dances between her fingers, sowing together her next curse.

 _“Expulso.”_ Her arms wave through the air as a jet of blue slams into the lizard’s left knee, shattering it.

“ _Crucio.”_ It’s spoken in a soft whisper, as if comforting a sleeping baby. A string of yellow light connects her wand and Greg's soon to be corpse. The lizard convulsives, extreme pain piercing through the remaining parts of his body.

“AHHHHH!” He falls on his remaining knee.

“ _Confringo.”_ The remaining arm is burned to ash.

“P-please st-stop! Pleeease, PLEASE!”

The corner of her mouth turns upwards.

“ _Corrumpo…”_ The putrid ball of green slams into the reptile’s groin. His entire body trembles in absolute agony, pain so strong he bites his slippery tongue in half.

“Mah-mahke it s-stohh, p’ease God!”

She pauses, arms faltering. There's a great swell of silence, as there always is before the storm.

A soundless wind whips in a circle around the wolf, spinning and hurling like a sudden hurricane. Tendrils of golden light begin to shiver and zap through the air, surrounding Betty as a visible magical aura emits from her violently shaking fur.

Greg’s eyes widen; a deep, most primal fear freezes his few remaining muscles. The last moments of his miserable, pathetic life flash before his eyes as Betty raises her wand one final time.

“ _Reducto!”_

There’s a spark of blue light and a terrible screeching noise; Flesh from flesh, bone from bone, his body is shredded apart like a blender. Red mist falls to the ground as silence descends.

There’s a heavy scent in the air, as unfamiliar as it is coarse and unforgiving.

It smells like iron and burnt flesh.

Betty’s paw grips the wand tightly, fur still bristled. The blood pumping in her veins feels neither cold nor warm. Emotions spent, the wolf is left feeling oddly… Empty.

Her jaw loosens slightly.

“For you… My little one.”

Her voice is hoarse, echoing like an ancient gong. Pale violet eyes sweep the surrounding area, searching for any possible threat. They ignore the steaming pile of rent flesh and gore.

There are no cops coming; there’s no one to care enough about this place. Any mammals that might have seen this were long gone. Once more, death follows in the wake of the black wolf.

Something shines in the corner of her vision.

Something silver.

It’s oddly… Comforting. Like a warm, gentle embrace.

A sweet release.

Now she’s staring down at it, unaware that her feet had dragged her over to the cut hand, still clutching the reptile’s bloodied gun in desperation. An unknown calling echos in her mind, a cry to freedom.

Her open paw twitches.

It’s so close...

*Zap!*

A bolt of yellow lightning strikes out from her wand, snapping the wolf back into reality. The wooden stick in her paw hums, as if speaking to her in a soft, simple voice. Her body is suddenly filled with pulsating magical energy, churning and begging for another victim.

Her eyebrows arch. Surely…

Well… It was magic, after all. Did it really need to be explained?

Perhaps another victim isn’t necessary, Betty thinks to herself. There was, after all, a whole new world awaiting her.

A harsh, yet familiar warmth returns to the wolfess. Like before, her body aches and burns.

But she can feel it.

And she can remember the feeling of _Her._

And that's enough, for now.

There’s a earth-shattering crack of thunder and the wolf is gone, disappearing into the uncertain future.


End file.
